Counting - MM of TCOT Glass Coffin
by startwriting
Summary: Shorty. Just a missing moment, something that happened in the office while we weren't watching.


_Shorty. I hope I can make you smile. _

_You might need to know something about the TVmovies, particularly about TCOT Glass Coffin, before reading this. I haven't seen it for a while, I just remembered the most important scenes, not their actual occurence and sequence, so I've made up my own timeline. _

_This missing moment takes place in the afternoon after Perry has shown the possible suspects the film that was made during the dramatic show of magician David Katz. _

_!SPOILERS! _

**MM of TCOT Glass Coffin - Counting**

Ken Malansky was used to the sounds of his boss and his confidential secretary working together. Or otherwise.

Of course, while being around them, he had caught them in what he called 'PD's' every now and then, like when she sat on Perry's lap, his arms around her waist, his face buried in her neck. He had caught them kissing more than friendly on numerous occassions, Perry's hands hidden somewhere they couldn't be seen. And Ken had stopped counting the moments he saw them sharing a loving look or a certain glance, mostly saucy, when he wasn't supposed to see it. He wasn't supposed to see a lot. But since they didn't seem to care, he did see a lot.

Just once, he had caught them in the real act, on a late Thursday night when he had gone home already, but had decided to go back to pick up some law books. He had entered the law library and had felt frozen to the spot when he became aware of the fact that he was really seeing what he thought he was seeing, luckily _without being seen_. He had felt strangely surprised because he'd never thought Perry's large frame could be moving in the lithe way it was at that very moment. After the shock, Ken had carefully locked the doors of the office on his way out, to make sure they could and would not be disturbed, and had smirkingly thought of numerous ways to tease them with this particular PD somewhere in the near future.

But it was not like that this afternoon.

Still, he didn't need to peek through the door between his office and Perry's now, because he knew exactly what he'd see. Perry and Della would be seated together at his conference table, Perry at the head of the table, Della next to him at his right side, close to his chair, close enough to touch him, or to indulge in his touches. Throughout the afternoon, they would remain in physical contact somehow, their legs would be touching under the table, intertwined at the ankles, if possible. Or his right hand would linger on the sleeves of her jacket, or, would be resting on her thigh. Every now and then her fingers would touch his, or stroke his shoulder or face briefly.

Della always shook her heels off when they were working side by side like this, and sometimes, she'd caress his bare leg underneath the hem of his pants with her toes. Once or twice during their work, they would sit back in their chairs, either simultaneously or apart from eachother. If apart, they would watch the other from aside, working, thinking, writing something down on a notepad. Only when they sat back at the same moment, they would just watch eachother silently. Perry would read her face, finding answers to his questions in her eyes, and she would let him do so patiently, her breathing deep and even, because his breathing would be as even and deep after a few moments of staring at her. Working and living with Perry Mason for a long, long time, she knew he would mirror her posture eventually and she knew he needed her rhythm to ease down.

It was an old anchored habit, and not just for in the office. And truth to be told, not just to ease down. Mirroring eachother had lots of enjoyable advantages.

Sometimes he would lean towards her, waiting for her to look up. If she would, he'd give her a short intense look, before they'd kiss softly. These 'conference table kisses' were divided in two parts actually, the first part being a quick brushing of lips, immediately followed by the second part, being a deeper nibble. Then he'd usually pause for a moment to look into her eyes, before he'd direct his gaze back to the documents he had been reading.

This afternoon Ken had left the door ajar, in such a way he was not able to hear what they were saying. The low rumble of Perry's voice, alternated by the soft, equally low tones of Della Street just formed the solid background music he needed to get his job done in the right way. He would never, but never, admit it to anybody, but secretly, he felt like he used to feel, when he was a little boy in his bedroom. His parents used to leave his door ajar so he could listen to their muttering and talking, while he was falling asleep, feeling safe and sound, knowing they were around just in case he needed them.

But of course, he would never say that to anyone.

They had told him they were going to work on timelines, which was the usual procedure when Perry had found out who the real killer was, but still had to find out about motive, means and opportunity in detail. All documents, pictures, and other pieces that held information about the victim, the client and the real murderer would find its place on the conference table, arranged in as many timelines as they thought necessary.

Della had collected everything she thought they needed to start this part of the investigation, and to be able to fill in vital details. She left the pile with documents, pictures and little notes at Perry's left side, and walked past him to sit down on the chair on his right hand side.

From the corner of his eyes he noticed she sank down slowly and uncomfortably, a slight hint of a painfilled grimace shadowing the beauty of her face for a moment. As a slow sense of guilt and something else crept through his mind, and body, he suppressed a knowing grin and watched her from over the rim of his glasses. Her perfectly arched brows went up, questioning his questioning eyes.

" Am I sorry about that ? " he asked in a soft voice.

He was treated to a stern look. " What do you think? "

That low slow sonorous voice matched the nature of the smiling hint on his face. " I think you were absolutely gorgeous last night. Not to mention tasty. "

" You're not sorry, are you ? " She merely stated a fact.

" Honestly … No. "

" Uh. Sure. Well, I'll find a way to make you feel guilty today, somehow. " She inhaled deeply, and just shook her head shortly, pursing her lips in the way he knew she enjoyed the tease as much as he did. " So, what do you want to start with ? "

Right. Back to business.

" We'll make three time lines, starting with the victim's, Kate Ford, and here … " he gestured over the table " we'll start David Katz' line, and here … " he gestured again " … we'll start the Morrison's line … "

" The Morrison's line ? You're absolutely sure they did it? "

" Yes, I think I already know where we're heading with this case … the Morrison's are guilty as hell, I just have to figure out why they wanted to kill Kate Ford, and when they did it exactly and how … It's important we can get David back to where he belongs with Judy as quick as possible … "

" Yes, how is Judy ? " Della asked, concerned.

" Devastated. I feel the need to go and talk to her about it. Unless you'd want to … "

" Do you want _me_ to talk to her? "

" Maybe … "

" Do you want _me_ to talk to a woman who is devastated because the love of her life cheated on her with another woman who as a result carried his child, while she herself can't conceive? "

_Bloody idiot._ He closed his eyes, a short moan escaping him while he rubbed his face with his large hands. She waited for one of these hands, and took it without hesitation when he held it out for her. He kissed her fingers and squeezed them lightly.

She glanced at him shortly. " Feeling guilty already ? " She grinned wickedly.

" Oh, minx …" He growled at her. She chuckled softly and gave her head a tilt.

Never would she refrain from making him feel guilty at the times she thought it was appropriate, and for her convenience. That was the only way she had been able to completely forgive him for what he called his 'mistakes' with the other women in his life. As long as she'd be allowed to remind him about this mistakes, and humour him about them, things would be 'fine'.

Not 'just fine', but 'fine'.

" I'm sorry. " She offered back.

" You're not. " And he was right. And she was right too. " So, we start with the pictures … "

" Which ones ? " Back to business.

" These … " He handed a few to Della.

" Mmm-mmm … "

" We take this one to start with at David's line and this second … "

" Yes … " But she shook her head. " No … "

" Why not? "

" Because, you see … here … that can not come second … "

He noticed and agreed. " Oh, yes … so this is the second, that's the … "

" … third … " finishing his sentence without thought she picked up the next picture.

" The fourth … and uhm … this one I don't know … "

" Let me see that … " She took it from his hands.

" Would you please … " He started asking, taking another picture and placing it on the table, at Kate Ford's timeline.

" No, this one … "

" Here, yes … Would you please … " he started the question again, but was distracted again " … that should be one of the last …" he murmurred.

" There are some others over here, maybe you want to look at them … " Della said.

" Yes, thank you. Would you please … " His mind unable to concentrate on two things at the same time, he again didn't finish his sentence, and that annoyed her immensely.

" Perry? "

" Mmmm ? "

" Would you please … would you please … would you please …. stop starting to propose to me ? "

He looked up shortly but just continued " This is the last one for David's time line, so we continue the Morrison's one … " then in one smooth tone of voice, without watching her, he reacted on her question. " Miss Street, I don't have to propose to you … " and went back to the timeline again " … here's another note. "

" Do you want the Morrison's in one line or two lines, one for Jake and one for Ann? " She asked him, being as smooth as he was, dropping the subject because she was going to pick it up again in her next sentence.

" Yes, two lines please."

" And why is it you don't have to propose to me? " She made two timelines out of the one they had created before and watched her work approvingly. " Better … "

" Because … here is the next page… " handing her another page with information, Perry lowered his right shoulder and leaned sidewards to her, his face closing in, his eyes directed at her, all the while taking in her softness, her scent. Her beauty. That feminine features, he had found so utterly alluring the night before. And now. She didn't notice the intenseness of his stare, until he finished his sentence in that particular low voice, softly. " … you repeatedly told me 'yes', about _fifty times _last night … "

He sat back in his chair and took the documents that needed to be fit into the timelines now. Seemingly dead serious, he thumbed through the pages and wrote down some remarks.

" Fifty times ? " She glanced at him, confused, then looked at the timelines in front of her, on the table and glanced back at him again. She narrowed her eyes, as if the words had to sink in slowly, and when they finally had, a soft giggle started to form in her chest and went just a little louder when she turned away from him shortly until the shaking of her shoulders had subsided.

He was still stone faced when she turned back to the table, sat straight up and cleared her throat.

" Fifty times, uh-uh ? "

" Mmm-mmm. "

Obviously wanting his attention, she playfully stared at him. He had practised ignoring that over the years, could easily let her do that for minutes, pretending he didn't notice it. But he gave her a short glance now. " What ? "

" Nothing important really. I just suddenly realized why you had trouble standing up straight when you showed these people the Weidner tape in the theatre this morning … You leaned down on the rail of the stage the entire time while you were watching them, and I wondered why, but now I understand …" she nodded " It's your back. "

He just stared at her. " So, my back aches, yes. "

" It's your age, darling. You'd better be more careful next time … " She couldn't help but wiggle in her chair.

He put down whatever it was he held in his hands, and looked at her, while she was pursing her lips, her nostrils betraying her inner laughter. " Do you know, Della Street, that people still think I hurt my knee _skiing_? "

" And it's what you keep telling them. " She nodded, her chin on her fist. " But the doctor guessed, didn't he? "

" Yes, and he told me very specifically, litterally to tell the mountain tops to stop seducing me into skiing. "

" He said no such thing. " But she knew it was true. She had been there when the doctor had said that, making her blush all over like a young girl caught stealing kisses.

" Yes, he did. That's why I can't stop myself from smiling if you tell people I gave up skiing … It is so not true. " They exchanged glances.

In the next minutes silence filled the office. They both worked through the documents, arranging them and rearranging them into the timelines. Concentration took over as they smoothly filled in the details about the victim, perpetrators and their client.

She broke the silence. " So, I told you 'yes' fifty times … " She queried his face. " But how do you know, Perry? Do you count when we're … uhm … when we're skiing … ? "

" Most of the times, yes. Especially when you're … " he gave her a short glance " … vocal … like you were yesterday. " He cleared his throat and handed her a page. " Now this is for the Morrison's line, for Jake … "

" Vocal, mmm …. " The page landed in the right line, for Jake, without her taking her eyes from his face. " But why ? Why would you want to count ? "

" Because, Miss, if I don't count … " His voice took on a conspiring tone as he took off his glasses and moved closer to her again. " … there is less to be counted … " He narrowed his playful eyes at her gaze. She was biting her lower lip and tried to refrain from laughing so desperately, she burst out and turned away from him again, hiding her smile behind her hand.

" Less to be counted." She tried a stern look. " A distraction device. " She nodded as if she was very seriously understanding what he said.

" Something like that, yes. "

" Perry, you are seventy-four … "

" So ? We still … ski … " His smile was dimple deep " … and so I still count … "

" In more ways than one. " She added softly, and took up another document. Reading through it swiftly, she dotted down something on it and left it in the right timeline. " But, I'd say that we have been practising for so many years, you should not need that … uhm … device … "

" I would agree with you, but … here … this is for Kate Ford's … " he gave her a note that belonged to Kate Ford's timeline " … sometimes you are so very damn appetizing, spurring me on, I just ... " He moaned softly, but didn't finish his sentence. Another short moan did.

" Fifty times … " she shook her head and worked swiftly through a pile of notes that were to be added to the timelines, that were about to be finished. " So, and when do you usually stop counting ? Is that when I stop telling you 'yes' ? " She chuckled low and long as he started to smile. His carefully built emotionless grimace threatened to burst again at her continuous soft laughter.

" Noooo … " He cleared his throat. " You stop saying 'yes', only, if I stop counting … Miss … "

Her laughter came in short little snorts. " Simultaneous, hmmm? "

He inhaled and smirked widely, without saying a word.

" You're so bad, Perry Mason … " She watched him from under her lashes.

" Bad, bad, bad … " he murmurred.

" I like you bad. " It was almost a whisper.

" I know … " he murmurred again. " So, that's it. We're finished. Let's see what we have here … " Perry sat back to watch the four timelines thoroughly.

She stood up and leaned forwards over their work, palms flat on the table. " Well … the Morrison's certainly did it, Perry … "

" That's for sure … " Perry nodded. " And now that we know why and when, we have to find out how exactly. "

" We already found out they sabotaged the coffin with David's lucky wand at some point. "

" I wish I had a magic lucky wand hidden somewhere … " Perry said thoughtfully.

The silence that followed was too long, and he watched her from aside. Long slender fingers drew circles on the conference table, her eyes directed at the slow movements of her hands. She sniffed and cleared her throat.

Her pursing lips betrayed her.

" Oh, Della Street, for God's sake … " He widened his eyes as if in shock. " You are even worse than I am. "

" I didn't say anything … " she feigned offence.

" You were thinking so loud, I could hear you. "

" It was just a nanosecond … " She stroked her skirt. " And you know what Paul sr. used to say … "

" A dirty mind is a joy forever, hmmm? " It was this look that made her feel unladylike dirty indeed.

" Yes. " And her gaze made him very, very vulnerable.

" He was right. But things should mellow with age, and you have celebrated your thirty-nineth birthday for the thirtiest time this year. "

" So? Who is counting? "

" I am. I thought that was the whole point … "

She went to stand behind his chair. Her arms snaked around his neck as she bent forward and placed her head on his shoulder. Her hands patted his chest while she kissed him on his cheek sweetly. " Sure. You keep on counting. And what are we going to do next? Apart from counting? "

" Well… " he grabbed both her hands in one large, rugged hand. " I do have an assignment for you later today, that also involves counting. "

" Oh. "

" And Ken needs to check these timelines out. Maybe he sees something we don't. Can you go and get him, please? " Perry let go of her hands, sat up straight, and stretched his back. He moaned.

" Are you all right, Perry? "

" No, it really hurts actually … "

" Am I sorry about that ? " repeating his earlier words, she smiled wickedly.

" You're not. "

" I am. "

" No, I don't believe you … And 'lady' is absolutely not the right word to describe you with today … "

" Uh … " She leaned over his chair again, her hands on his shoulder, her lips close to his ear. " It could have been a lot worse, you know. "

" Oh, really? "

" Well, as you so very well pointed out to me earlier, I should behave in conformity with my age … " Her low sultry voice caressed his entire body.

" Yes ? So? "

" I am sixty nine. " Now her low sultry voice caressed only certain body parts.

She started laughing softly, biting her upper lip, in an attempt not to make too much sound, but she failed and there was no way she could withhold the shaking of her body, laughing out loud.

His two hands hit the conference table, slightly mixing up the papers that had been laid out so perfectly arranged before. " Damn it, woman … Now, I can't get up at all … "

She looked away from him, and laughed her chuckles out loud, still trying very hard to stop, which turned out to be to no avail. And when their eyes met again, a new burst of laughter caught them both and made him actually stand up from his chair, grabbing his lower back in pain, which made her laugh even louder. She had to sit down. Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes as he playfully growled at her. " You are going to be so sorry, Della Street … "

" Hey, I'm trying to work here. " Ken Malansky yelled at them from his office.

" I'm sorry, Ken. We just … " Her elbows were on the table as she whiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks, and sniffed, then chuckled again.

" What is this about? " Ken walked in.

Perry shook his head. " Oh, Ken, don't ask. "

" Yeah, well, if I'm not allowed to ask, I probably also don't want to know … Do you need coffee or somethin' ? "

" Yes, please … and Della needs a counting-frame. "

This set another fresh wave of laughter.

" God, we should stop this one day. It's going to be the death of me. " She blew out a big breath, and started laughing again softly. The tears were still rolling of her cheeks, and Perry Mason just looked at her and remembered the first time he had seen her laughing like this. And he remembered how very, but very deep he had fallen in love with her, whiping her tears of laughter away with her own little white handkerchief, and how she had told him to keep it with him, just in case.

Loving and laughing were two words that sounded slightly different, but meant the same and caused the same when done with Della Street.

He thought he had never seen his girl more pretty than she was now. Thirty-nine indeed, her smiling eyes and the blush making him feel equally young. He leaned forward, wrapped a massive arm around the shoulders of his amazing girl, and kissed her tenderly on her soft cheek. " I love you so dearly, Della Street. "

He reached inside his suitjacket and slowly pulled out a small, pale white lacy handkerchief, brought it to her face, and gently stroked the tears from her cheeks in the way he had done that for decades. The hazel eyes that looked up at him still took his breath away. Litterally.

Ken interrupted them. " Oh, Perry, so that's the lucky handkerchief, right? "

" This handkerchief is very old, used, and only meant to whipe away tears of laughter … "

" Then that is why it is the lucky one … " Ken concluded, sitting down at the conference table, already taking in the contents of the four carefully constructed timelines.

" No, Kenneth Malansky. That is why _I _am the lucky one. Because I can whipe these tears away and carry them with me wherever I go. "

Ken turned his chair, and took in the body language of Della Street, along with her pensive dreamy gaze. He was sure he saw her melt. She was fighting it, but she couldn't help herself and blushed deeply, feeling as warm on the outside as she felt on the inside.

" He's such a romantic, and he doesn't even realize it. " Ken shook his head. " He is truly amazing sometimes … "

" He is. " Della clasped her hands in front of her on the table, the tender warmth of what the amazing man had just said enveloping her like his strong arms could do that too.

She counted her blessings.

And when she realized she was counting, she started laughing again.

_Epilogue - After the credits_

" Are you going to count again ? "

" Do you want me to? "

" If you are going to count, I have a specific number in mind … "

" Sixty-nine … ? "

" You wish … "

" Well … "

" No. "

" So, what's your lucky number tonight, baby ? "

" Two hundred and fifty eight … Is that a pipedream ? "

" No, Miss Street … that … " he made sure she felt what he wanted her to feel and smirked as she moaned deeply " … is a challenge … "

" Yes. "

" One … "


End file.
